Lucifer
by Alexandra Lynch
Summary: In the time before Voldemort, he is the golden boy. He has the looks, the intelligence, the wealth, and the blood. So where did it all go wrong? WARNING for slash, het, and people generally behaving badly.
1. prologue

_**Author's Note:** This does not strictly adhere to the canonical timeline. To wit, I have made Lucius Malfoy rather older than he is revealed to be in Order of the Phoenix. Quite frankly, I think it makes more sense this way. Otherwise, view this as how it all might have come about...._

Prologue  
  
September, 1955  
  
The girl fretted her hands together as she stood there in the crowd of first-years. She was tall for her age, one of the taller children in the group, and so she could if she stood on her toes just see over the top of the other heads, up the length of the aisle, to where the stool and the Hat were, along with an elderly witch wearing bright green robes in a distinctly old-fashioned cut. Her stomach churned with nerves. She shifted, and a boy next to her whispered, "It'll be okay." He had red hair, and bright blue eyes, and he patted her shoulder reassuringly.   
"You're Sorted when you get there," her mother had said, as she had packed a very new and shiny trunk with equally new robes. "Be very careful. It matters so much which house you get in, who you know, who you like and don't like. Do your very best." But her mother had not said which House she should try for. There were four, but she knew little apart from that, which she had gleaned from conversation between her parents when they thought her asleep.   
  
As she shifted and pushed a dark strand of hair out of her face, a pair of pale grey eyes met hers. She smiled nervously at them, and after a moment, they crinkled in a cool smile. They belonged to a tall boy, so fair he shone almost white, who like her was peering up the aisle at the Sorting and varying it by the occasional whispered remark to a couple other boys near him. He didn't look concerned. Or not as concerned as she felt.   
They were working in her direction. "Johnson, Elsa!"  
Hufflepuff, and cheers and hugs as she sat down at the third table there.   
"Kendrick, Ava!"  
Gryffindor, and cheers from that table.   
"Malfoy, Lucius!" and the tall blond boy walked with an air of confidence up to the stool. He sat down, and the hat barely touched his head before it called, "Slytherin!"  
He was smiling as he walked to the far right-hand table.   
_ Ooh,_ thought Evadne. _No wonder he looks like he owns the world_. The Malfoy name was on the front page of the Daily Prophet a lot. Old, old blood, and very rich. She realized that was why some names had sounded familiar. _Everyone's kids go here. Wow_.   
It was getting closer.   
"Merritt, Giles!" A Ravenclaw.  
Morgan, Frances!" A Gryffindor.  
_It all depends on this. All of it.It all depends on this...._  
"Mulciber, Adrian!" A dark wiry boy, who is greeted with a clap on the back by Malfoy at the Slytherin table. They clearly knew each other before today.   
"Norton, Evadne!"  
It seemed a long, long walk up the aisle. The hat was big for her, shading her eyes, and she heard an old man with amusement in his voice.   
_Well, well, what have we here! Lots of loyalty, and courage too, and smart...what do you want?_  
_ I want..._ She couldn't articulate it, but she knew it. Something to do with being a real witch, something deep that she'd learned from overheard conversations and halfspoken sentences, something that rested on her shoulders, the only child. _I'll do anything for it....  
Anything?  
Anything.  
Then I think you belong in..._.SLYTHERIN! the Hat bellowed, and she found herself walking over to the table. She sat down near Malfoy and Mulciber, and their smiles of welcome were drowned in the sound of soft polite murmurs from her new housemates.   
"Hello, Evadne, Welcome to Slytherin."  
"Welcome."  
It was much more her style than the great hugs and whoops of joy that the others were getting in other houses. She was shy and reserved by nature.   
Her end of the table was filling up. Two more boys, Terence Nott, Gilbert Parkinson. Another greeted with backslapping and grins, Augustus Rookwood.   
"Weasley, Arthur!" That was the redhead who had patted her shoulder while they waited. He was a Gryffindor and was welcomed by an exuberant hug from a redheaded girl, probably a sister.   
And at last, "Zabini, Antonio" was sorted into Ravenclaw, and the Headmaster stood up.   
"I welcome all of you to your Houses, and to Hogwarts. For many years we have strived to train our young wizards and witches to take their place in the larger wizarding world. Each element of your education will develop your young powers in...."  
Evadne shifted in her seat, trying to listen to the Headmaster but distracted by a growling stomach and nearby conversations.   
"God, but he does blather on," Malfoy murmured to Rookwood, "and I'm positively ravenous."  
"Too right," Rookwood returned. "Were you worried?  
"Not at all. We've always been in Slytherin. A little worried about Adrian, but he managed to escape Ravenclaw."  
"Well, we're all back together," returned Rookwood. "That old duffer could shut up any time now."  
"Likes the sound of his own voice," said an older boy, leaning down toward them. "I say, Gil, you looked positively green up there. Worried about where you were going?"  
"Oh, shut it, Alan!" Gil rejoined with some heat. Evadne could see the family resemblance, and smiled. She didn't have any brothers or sisters, and looked forward to the cameraderie of the House.   
"I say, look," said Terence Nott. "Keriell's hissing at him. He'll shut up soon."  
"And in conclusion, I wish you to enjoy the feast, and your new friends." The Headmaster sat down rather abruptly, and directed an unfocused beam on the audience. He was being ignored, though, in favor of the food, even by the teachers.   
  
"Worried, Lucius?" whispered Adrian.   
He shook his head with a faint grin as he walked down between the two center tables, down the center aisle to the Sorting Hat. It was overlarge for him, but that didn't bother him.   
_ Aaaah...another **Malfoy**,_ said the hat. And in the name it managed to put ten centuries of privilege and power and control. _**You** belong in...._ SLYTHERIN!  
He stood up with a smile of certainty and walked over to his table, smiling to the others gathered there. He knew a few, of course, older brothers and sisters of his friends. But his name gave him a cachet, and they all smiled in welcome, polite murmurs passing up and down the table as they turned to see who else would be sorted in.   
Adrian Mulciber was the next one, and Lucius felt a swoop of relief in his heart. Adrian was a bookworm, always finding out little useful nuggets of information, and there's been some worry among them that perhaps he might wind up in Ravenclaw instead.   
"The Hat said I was too practical," Adrian said in an undertone. "I say, what's a good theory without application?  
They sat down, and Lucius said, "Well, now we just have to wait. No way Rookwood won't wind up here. Oh, we've got a girl." They watched as Evadne Norton made her way over to the other side of the table. She was the tall one that had met his eyes when they were waiting, Lucius remembered. Dark hair, dark eyes, rather sallow skin. Looks sort of Spanish or something. He tried to remember who the Nortons were, but got distracted when Terry Nott sat down on his other side with a brilliant grin of accomplishment.   
"Only two more of us to go," he said. "Thank God we're past halfway, since I'm absolutely ravenous."  
Lucius realized he was too. "Yeah, they don't much feed you on the train."  
"Why the hell'd you ride the train, Lucius? Your dad's got a carriage."  
"He said something about the traditional experience," and Lucius's refined features exhibited disgust. "I'll say it's an experience. Never eaten a chocolate frog all over coal smut before. I need a bath."  
"You're such a ponce, Lucius," laughed Adrian. "Oooh, I think I see a wee bit of coal dust in that pretty white hair." He affected picking particles from Lucius's shoulder-length blond mane.   
"Ah, go wank a sheep, Adrian," laughed Lucius, and punched him lightly in the arm. "You've got a line of soot right down your cheek yourself. Here's Gil now."  
"Hey, there!" said Gilbert Parkinson, whose light brown hair was cut short in an effort to contain it. "Gang's all here, it looks like."  
"All except Rookwood."   
"He's up in a few. Haven't seen you lot for a while."  
"Last time was when Lucius's sister got married, " said Adrian, thinking.   
"Chryseis's wedding, yes, couple months back, " said Lucius. "Oh, Ralston's wound up in Hufflepuff. I knew he was a duffer, but damn!"   
There was much quiet laughter, and then Augustus Rookwood came over to join them. He said, "Shove over, Terry," and sat down next to him, darting a glance at the dark girl down the table. "One girl, anyway. It was looking like our year's all boys."  
"There's another down there...Carlisle, I think. Blond girl, but not as fair as Lucifer here," said Adrian. "No problems, Gus?"   
"Not at all," said Rookwood, looking down the table. "Yeah, Evan Carlisle's little sis. I forgot she was our age."  
"So, Lucius, heard anything about the profs we haven't?" asked Gil Parkinson.   
"Not really. My mother knows Keriell, but that's a given. I think they've collaborated on a couple papers. I'm just hoping I inherited her skill, cause otherwise I'm going to really have a hard time."   
"Hey, we bagged another bird," said Terry Nott. He'd actually been watching the Sorting. "Marguerite Skeeter." They all looked up at the girl with mousy brown hair as she passed, then returned to the conversation.   
"I hear old Shackleford retired."  
"Yeah, my sister said there's a new one. Flitwick, that tiny one up there."  
"Small as he is, he must be dangerous," commented Lucius. They laughed, and Gus said, "Won't be an issue for YOU, Lucius. Me, though, Charms haven't been my thing at all."  
"You'll manage, Gus," said Adrian. "We've a reputation to protect, you know."  
"That we do," said Terry. "Can't have the mudbloods showing us up."  
"Indeed," said Lucius. He looked down the table, and felt a surge of pride in his blood. All old families here, all the people who were his people. His family, in a larger sense. He was looking forward to showing that the old blood was still strong.   
  
After the Feast, they went back to their dorms to get settled in. Lucius dashed for the bath, and returned looking much less grey around the edges. He used a drying charm on his hair, and, clad in new robes, strolled out to the common room. The room was quiet, with the focused attention of cats who just saw a rustle of movement in the grass. And all attention was centered on the dark girl, Norton. She looked around in bewilderment, and Lucius felt a distant pity for her. She had no idea what she'd got into. This would be amusing.  
  
Evadne liked Slytherin so far. They weren't as wild and raucous as Gryffindor, and the fact that there were no great swooping hugs of welcome made Evadne feel more comfortable. Conversation was quiet and polite, unlike the food fight that broke out in Gryffindor. But sidelong glances were darted her way through the meal, and once everyone was settled in the dorm, the glances were changed into a question.   
"Evadne...Norton, is it?"   
The question was asked in a drawling, cool voice, by a tall dark girl, a couple years older. Evadne realized she was at the center of a circle, and the expressions on their faces were less than kind. Her dinner sat heavy in her stomach, and she felt her shoulders tensing.   
"I don't think I've ever heard that name before. Geoffrey, do you know of any Nortons?" she enquired of a tall boy who was lounging against the wall.   
"No..." he said, thoughtfully. "Who are your parents, Evadne, dear?"  
"William Norton and Dolores Johnson," she said. "Why?"  
"And who are their parents?"  
"Why does it matter? My grandparents aren't wizards, but..."  
She stopped speaking, because the atmosphere in the room had gotten colder. There was a long pause, and then the tall boy leaning against the mantel said, "Well, well, well. The Hat has given Slytherin a mudblood. We must endeavour to make the best of it."  
"Best of it!" a girl said angrily.   
"Shut it, Lacerta," he said firmly. He fixed Evadne with a stern eye, and said, "Evadne, you have no idea of the honor done you. Live up to it, and don't embarass your house by pulling any stupid Mudblooded tricks."   
Someone behind her said, "The Hat must be getting senile," and there was a snigger all around. And Evadne realized that her dream of a family wouldn't be found in Slytherin House.   
  
She didn't cry until she was behind the green velvet curtains of her new bed, and no one could see or hear. And after a few weeks, she didn't cry at all. She was, after all, a pragmatist, and no one ever challenged the decisions of the Sorting Hat. Not even a mudblood in Slytherin.


	2. Chapter 1 In which Evadne discovers the ...

Chapter 1  
  
Three days later  
  
Faced with a free period before dinner, Evadne Norton put her head down and made her way to the library. Once there, she dropped her books on a free table and, opening one to conceal her face from the world, let her lip quiver. _Breathe,_ she told herself. _It could be worse, it could be worse. It could be like Christmas with the cousins. _  
Her Muggleborn parents had solemnly alternated years of celebrating with one or the other set of grandparents. Her mother was an only child. Her father was the youngest of four. ALL of whom had kids. Lots of kids. They were a loud and gregarious bunch, most of them living together in the same block, and seeing each other often. Evadne was a strange crow among this chattering bunch of fair children, with her dark skin and hair, and her odd standoffishness and bookishness. And around her, things....happened. Not all the time. But often enough that any hope of being accepted by the cousins was dust by the time she was six.   
_At least the kids in my house don't...do...anything. Yet._ She had reverted to her default response of silence and invisibility in a corner, and so far it had gotten her through the day. She'd watched Professor Keriell, a tall thin man who looked like a stork, as he discussed the importance of potions in wizarding life. She'd watched Professor Jowett, the compactly built sandy colored Transfiguration professor who was head of her House as he walked in and transfigured a desk and a chair out of a couple of matchsticks lying on the floor and made half the class gasp. She'd watched little Filius Flitwick, a merry little dwarf of a man, as he showed how indispensable Charms were to wizards. She'd watched Professor Poff as he stalked about, waving a scarred hand as he discussed the creatures they'd study that year, and reminded herself not to wear any jewelry to class when they met Nifflers. She'd watched Professor Mugg discuss the basis of Dark Magic and how to tell it from Light Magic, his dark hair flopping untidily over his brow and into his eager face.   
  
She had watched the redheaded boy glance at her and smile, but she didn't smile in return, and earned a cool nod from one of her housemates. She'd watched Lucius Malfoy, with his coterie of hangers on, and gotten the impression that he was a bit beyond the syllabus, and seen the peculiar little grin that quirked his mouth in Defense against the Dark Arts class, even though he half hid it behind a raised hand, and it vanished like a cloud in the sun when the professor looked his way. And she had listened to the conversation when she went back to her dorm to get her books for the afternoon.   
"Has she embarassed us yet?"  
"Not a word, past "Here" when he called her name," said Lacerta Carlisle's purebred tones, muted with a surprising degree of humility. "She looks like she's shaping to be a swot."  
"Well, if she keeps her head down, she might not prove to be such a great burden on us," said the soft tones of the purebred boy that had interrogated her on her first night. "Time will tell, however. Off to class with you, Lacie," he said, in the teasing manner of an older brother, and Lacerta had merely laughed like a child, before coming out, a pleased smile on her face until she glanced at Evadne. Then it had slipped behind a cool facade, and she had looked past her as if she didn't exist. Everyone looked at Evadne like she didn't exist.   
  
A sudden movement beside her startled her. A tall angular redheaded girl, a little older than Evadne by the look of her, folded herself down into a seat across from her. "Hi," she said quietly, glancing at Skelton, the librarian. "I see you found the group study table. Whatcha working on, Charms?"  
"Y...yes," she said, nervously. "I...I'll just go..."  
"Hey, you don't have to. We have all houses sit here, and we help each other out. We swots have to stick together," she said, with a kind grin, and Evadne dared a tentative smile in return. "I'm Iolanthe Weasley," the girl said. "I'm pretty good with Charms, and I'm only a year ahead, so I can give you a hand if you want."  
"I...That would be nice," admitted Evadne. "I think I understand what Professor Flitwick was talking about in the different categories of charms, but it'd make me feel better if someone looked at it."  
"Not a problem. How you holding up?"  
"I'm....all right," she said, not daring to say any more. "I study hard, and they're not as bad as my cousins were."  
Iolanthe cocked her head at her like a sparrow. "You're muggleborn, aren't you?" she said, briskly.   
"My mum and dad are wizards. But they're the first," Evadne admitted. "My grandparents and aunts and uncles are all muggles."   
"Mmm," said Iolanthe, but said no more as the redheaded boy in her classes sat down beside her.  
"Hi," he said, smiling a smile that was identical to the redheaded girl. They HAD to be brother and sister. "I'm Arthur Weasley. This is my big sis, Iolanthe. Are you going to try out for the team, Iolanthe?"   
"You bet," she said, with a bit of a wiggle. "Once a few of the others get here I'm going to introduce you round and then go eat early so's it can settle by time for the tryouts. Bet I can be Chaser."  
"I bet you'll make it," he said, with an answering twinkle in his eye. "You're bloody brilliant on a broomstick, and you know it."  
"And so will they, " she said as an older boy, his tie striped in blue and yellow, sat down at one corner of the table. "Hey, Julius, this is my little brother Arthur, and....I didn' t hear your name, sweetie," she said, looking at Evadne.  
"Evadne Norton," she said, very quietly.   
"Can you introduce them to people as they show up? I've got to eat or I'll never be able to fly today."  
"Are you going to come back after practice?" he asked, startling Evadne with a dark rich voice, like chocolate.   
"Probably, yeah," she said. "Keriell slapped us with an essay right away on the uses of dittany." She rolled her eyes and Julius grinned, white teeth startling against his dark skin.   
"I'll be here, so if you get stuck, let me know. I've got Ancient Runes to work on," he said, and Iolanthe mock-shuddered.   
"Better you than me. All right, then, I'm off. Wish me luck!"   
  
They all did, and when she'd gone, Julius looked at Evadne, and smiled again. "Just so you know," he said, "we don't pay much mind to houses here. We're all doing our best, and giving everyone a hand where we can."  
And faced with the open smiles on the faces of both boys, Evadne decided...they might be telling the truth.   
"All right," she said, and smiled a real smile at them, before she turned to work on her Transfiguration papers.   
  
They were telling the truth. And gradually, slowly, Evadne found the companionship she'd hoped for in whispered conversations in the library. It made the snubs and slights from her housemates easier to bear. 


	3. Chapter 2 In which hair becomes a weapo...

Chapter 2  
  
October, 1959  
  
The first shot of the year in the ongoing battle between Gryffindor and Slytherin was fired by one Arthur Weasley, fifth year. His defense, if he'd been asked, would have been that Lucius Malfoy's hair annoyed him.   
  
It was, as he'd said before, a way for the old purebloods' offspring to flaunt their status. These were people who never ever saw muggles, who could be as different as they wanted, who could have hair down to their ankles because they had house elves and servants to  
tend it, who used spells to tie their shoes and button their robes. There were about twenty pureblooded boys who affected the long hair, but Malfoy was the tallest, best looking, and most arrogant. His hair never snarled or fell in his face, just draped there obediently and made all the girls in Gryffindor forget what they were saying when he walked by with it falling down his back, eyecatchingly white blond against the black school robe.   
  
Including Molly Allen, who Arthur had been trying to ask out to Hogsmeade, damn it. He flubbed it again, and annoyed her by snapping and walking off, so annoyed with Lucius bloody Malfoy for fucking existing that he couldn't see straight.  
  
Arthur had been experimenting with this particular spell over the summer, and was anxious to give it a trial run. He aimed the spell and whispered it barely under his breath. "_Nodorum lente et clanculum",_ and watched the strands of long straight blond hair begin to tie themselves in knots. Hair by hair. Very slowly, so that he wouldn't notice. It was looking good, and Arthur felt warm pride rise in his chest.   
No one noticed until the end of class, a full hour later. And then it was Gil Parkinson who saw it. "Good God, Lucius, what the hell happened to your hair?"  
Arthur couldn't help it, he began laughing. Lucius ran a hand over his ponytail, stopped as he felt the knot it had snarled itself into, and let his hand fall. "Quite amusing, Weasley," he said, and his tones were cold. "I'd think before you do things like that, though. The consequences can be... annoying."  
  
Lucius was late to Potions that afternoon, but his hair was back to normal. Arthur was, despite himself, impressed. He apparently really was as good with charms as rumor had it.   
"Impressive, Weasley," he said, as he walked by his desk, trailed by Rookwood, after getting the necessary ingredients out of the storeroom for the practical. "I thought you'd like to know that even with a counter charm it took three hours to sort out."  
"Yeah, cleverness like that will get you a job with the ministry. I bet you might even make enough to buy new trousers," said Rookwood, and sniggered in that highly annoying way he had. Arthur stared at him and concentrated on NOT hitting the bastard. He'd grown another inch, and the let down marks on his trousers were quite visible, as his robe was also a bit too short. He was quite sensitive about the financial issues that had hit his family after his father's death.   
"Go fuck yourself, Rookwood, " Arthur said, through gritted teeth. "Or pretty Malfoy here, you can pretend he's a girl."   
"Do it again and I'll tie your entrails into knots, Weasley," said Lucius, quite calmly and seriously. "I think it would be equally amusing. And it's not like there aren't plenty of redheaded Mugglelovers to carry on the line."  
"Mr. Malfoy, I trust that what you're discussing with Mr. Weasley is related to the potion you're preparing," said Professor Keriell serenely but pointedly. Malfoy smiled slightly and walked back to his seat. Arthur sat down in his seat and let Gordon Longbottom do the potion while Arthur concentrated on not walking over and breaking that lovely aristocratic nose, detention be damned.   
"This is a Wit-Sharpening potion, " the professor said. "Consequently you will each sample your own potion and write a foot on the observed effects."   
Arthur's looked good. He shrugged, dipped out a dose, and drank it. He and Gordon did this alternately, so as to keep them from both being incapacitated at once....they'd share notes and both write it up. Nothing happened this time, though, and by the time he was in Ancient Runes, he could tell he'd done the potion right. His mind felt clear, and for a change he was following Professor Kniess's lecture easily. Normally he had to work at it.   
  
"I say, Arthur, " said Ralston, as they stepped out of the classroom. "Nice hair. Embracing your heritage?"  
"What ever do you mean?" Arthur said, and reached a hand up to his head. Instead of feeling his shortcropped hair, he touched long strands. _Oh, bloody hell._ He turned, and saw Lucius Malfoy standing there, a cold and nasty smile touching his lips. He looked at him consideringly, then shook his head.   
"No, even growing your hair out doesn't make you look like a trueblood, Arthur. Nice try, though. Do have fun with it. "  
He deflected the hex Arthur shot at him smoothly, and smiled. "Temper. Dueling in the halls is forbidden, I believe."  
"It is indeed," said Adrian Mulciber, Slytherin prefect. "Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr Weasley."  
  
And they were gone. Arthur swore and headed back to the dorm to cut his hair. He went to dinner with short hair, but by the end of the meal it was brushing his shoulders again. He had to admit it was an impressive job of work, especially when you considered that the potion that had done this had had to be concealed in the Wit-Sharpening Potion without changing its color, taste, or effect, or creating anything toxic. When he woke tangled in knee-length hair, he was less charitable, especially with the teasing he endured for the full three days it lasted.   
  
He didn't mention it to Evadne, although she knew. Everyone knew. From her sparkling eyes she thought it was funny...and, he had to admit, it was....but at least she wasn't laughing at him as they wrote their papers on the advantages of using staves over stones for Ancient Runes.   
  
She'd turned into a pretty girl, he admitted. A good figure under the robes, tall, and exotic looking with her olive skin and strong features, surrounded by the dark curls that she kept out of her face with an Alice band. And he knew she was intelligent and had a wickedly fun sense of humor. But she never accepted invitations to socialize anywhere else, and he knew better than to ask her out. She was dedicated to her work, to her studies, and lived an austere life that was more inside books than out. It was a pity she wasn't in Ravenclaw. But she was careful to do nothing to antagonize her housemates, and dating him would have done that. Still, it was a great pity that she buried herself so deeply in work.   
  
"What did you tell the Sorting Hat?" he asked her one day. She frowned at him.   
"What do you mean?" she said.   
"When you were under the Sorting Hat, what did you say to it? You belong in Ravenclaw, not Slytherin."  
"I didn't say anything," she said. "It knew what I wanted, and asked me what I'd do to get it."  
"And you said?"   
Her eyes had a hunger in them that blazed, and scared him slightly when she looked him full in the face. "Anything. And I still would. And that's why I"m in Slytherin."  
This time he was the one to drop his eyes, and turn them back to their homework. He never asked again.


	4. Chapter 3 In which Adrian recieves a let...

_**Author's Note: **Slash ahead. If you don't like it, stop reading now. You have been warned. _

Chapter 3  
  
December 1959  
  
The mail owls flew over, and the usual rain of letters and packages fell, apparently from the snowing sky above. It was early December, and everyone was looking forward to the holiday that would come in a few short weeks.   
"Who's that from, Adrian?" asked Lucius, mouth full of toast.   
"Dunno," he said. "Doesn't look like my father's handwriting."  
Lucius looked at the letter. What it looked like to him were the letters his father got from the ministry about consulting. Something official.   
"You going to open it?"  
"Going to finish my eggs first," Adrian Mulciber said, and proceeded to do so. At sixteen, he had matured into a slender boy, although not quite Lucius's height, with a long face and dark eyes, and he regularly got teased about the curls his long dark hair fell into when left to its own devices. Lucius took another piece of toast, and began talking to Gil Parkinson, the Slytherin Keeper, about Quidditch tactics, since he was one of the Slytherin chasers. He'd forgotten all about the letter when he heard Mulciber gasp.   
"Oh, God," Adrian whispered. He had gone chalk white, and the letter fell limply from his hand into his plate. "I..." and he clapped a hand over his mouth, dashing away from the table. Everyone turned. Lucius grabbed the letter, read it, blanched, and headed after him. Rookwood caught up with him at the door. "Go get Jowett," Lucius told him. "Now."  
When Professor Jowett arrived, Adrian was sobbing and retching. Lucius turned from where he was holding his friend's hair back and handed him the letter. "Sir, if there's anything my family or I can do...."  
Professor Jowett looked the letter over, and his brows went up. "I need to take this to the Headmaster," he said. "You two are excused from class for the day. Get him to bed and stay with him until he's over the shock. DAMN those officious Mudblooded shites...." He shut the door, and his voice could be heard chasing away the curious.   
Eventually Lucius was able to get Adrian to sit up, to flush away the remains of his breakfast, to walk through relatively quieter halls back to their dorm. The words in the letter were fresh in his mind.   
  
"...apparent psychotic break....already dead when the Aurors arrived...were forced to use deadly force in order to subdue him...due to the condition that the remains were in, disposal as hazardous magical materials was indicated and has been accomplished..."  
  
He loosened Adrian's tie, and drew off his shoes. Adrian rolled into a ball, and kept sobbing, broken, holding on to Lucius's hand. And Lucius let him. _Gobshites. Send him a fucking official letter from the Aurors with the bloody incident report enclosed.. He's fucking still in school. You could have sent someone. Or sent the letter to the headmaster and had him break the news. Some fucking Mudblood wanting to take a dig at the old families, that's what it was._   
It was a shadow that ran over many of the old houses, the ones who claimed the practice of the Dark Arts as their own birthright. Too much of it, and you go insane. And there's no hard line to know where "too much" is. It had taken Adrian's father, and by extension, his mother, at a relatively young age. It had killed Lucius's great-grandfather, only two years before. Etienne Malfoy was smart. He never used dark magic where light magic would do, and he'd taught Lucius the same. But there were some magical fields where dark magic is the only magic and Jocelin Mulciber had been a student of one of them, one of the best in the field. Lucius held his friend's hand, and stared at the stone wall, and the heavy drapery, and at the spider making a web between the bedpost and the wall, and was surprised to find his face wet. Eventually, they both fell asleep, holding on to each other's hand.   
  
Lucius was awakened by movement beside him. Memory rushed in. "What time is it?" Adrian said in a voice that was slightly hoarse. Lucius sat up, straightening his robes. He needed to change them. Adrian ran a hand down his face, and sighed.   
Lucius summoned a cloth and handed it over. Adrian wiped his face, and sat up, shakily.   
"Are you all right?" Lucius said, and then shook his head. "I'm such a git. Of course not."  
"No," Adrian agreed. "But I will be. The money is all right since..." He bit his lip and didn't continue for a moment, fighting back tears. _Since he only killed his wife, and there's no compensation to be paid out to anyone but his son._ They both knew the unspoken words, and avoided each other's eyes. There was no compensation for losing your parents.   
"I'll write my parents. To see if you could come to us over the summer."  
"Thanks," said Adrian. "But my grandparents are still alive, they'll probably take me. But I'll accept any invitations. There's no cousins my age at all, except that bitch Lacerta. "  
"All right," Lucius said, and smiled. "It gets pretty boring there in the summer, though. Father's at the ministry, and Mother locks herself in her lab."  
"It wouldn't be boring with you there," Adrian said, and then changed the subject. "Have you really been here all this time?"  
"Yes....Jowett excused us from classes."  
"You didn't have to do that," Adrian said. "God, I need a bath." He stood up and began unfastening his robe, and Lucius stood too, moving over to his own desk.   
"Can you eat? You missed lunch, but dinner will be soon."  
"I think so." Adrian had stripped and wound a towel around him, before picking up his soap. "Will you..." He looked vulnerable, suddenly, and younger.   
"I'll wait for you," said Lucius, and smiled at him. The smile that returned was sweet, but shadowed, and Adrian ducked out of the room.   
Lucius changed his robe, and thought very, very hard. And he made sure that he didn't look up from his Transfiguration text when the door banged, announcing his roommate had returned, until Adrian said, "You coming or not? I'm famished." Because although robes hid a lot, it was still uncomfortable to have one's body doing...that...around one's roommate. Around one's best friend. Around one's best friend whose father just fucking murdered his mother in a fit of Dark Magic-induced psychosis, for God's sake didn't he have ANY sense of decency? Now was NOT the time. Not at all. Even if he did have a gorgeous smile and the curve of his spine was beautiful enough to make Michelangelo weep, and hair that made his hands itch to touch it, it was not the right bloody time to do anything about it.   
This would be a good night to read that book on the theory of charms that his father'd sent to him last week. To lose himself in a book.   
  
Adrian closed his Transfiguration book, and sighed. He was tired, and was going to go to bed. He looked at his watch. Well past curfew. Definitely time. He just hoped he could sleep. Turning out some lights would be a good start.   
"Lucius," Adrian said. There was no reply. "Lucius!" he said, a little louder. Still no response. Adrian sighed and shook his head. True, his best friend was sitting there in an elegant sprawl on his own bed (and looking damned beautiful, all that silver hair and long graceful body against the green hangings), but he really wasn't there. He was so far inside the book he was reading that he couldn't hear anything. Adrian wasn't sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing. You could set off a dungbomb right next to him and he wouldn't notice at this point. Someone had, once, when he was reading in the Great Hall. It had won Lucius some respect that his only response was a charm to blow the stink away from him about three minutes later, followed by a quick return to the book.   
Adrian knew how to deal with this. He walked around his own bed, and touched Lucius's shoulder, only to find his own wrist caught in a quick, steely grip. It almost hurt. It did hurt. Fuck, when had he got that strong? Lucius was staring at him, eyes dilated and face frozen as he pulled his mind back out of the book.   
"You can let go," Adrian said pointedly, and Lucius thawed, a wry smile touching his mouth, and releasing Adrian's wrist as he set the book down on his nightstand.   
"Did I hurt you?" Lucius said. "I didn't realize that my reflexes had improved that much." He'd been studying an Advanced Defence course, and it had given him a hairtrigger response.   
Adrian held up his arm where a set of finger marks showed red. "It'll go away." He sounded sulky, even to his own ears, and he realized that he was vaguely angry. Just one more bloody thing going wrong today.   
"Damn. I'm sorry." Lucius looked contrite.  
Somehow this annoyed Adrian more. He stepped back away from Lucius's bed, and angrily pulled at his tie. "It's all right," he muttered.   
"I'm...."  
"It's all right, I said!" Adrian snapped, and Lucius's eyes widened.   
He shoved himself off the bed, and said, "What the hell do you want me to do, Adrian? I SAID I was sorry. Do you want me to fucking kiss it better or something?"  
The statement fell like lead into the room, and they both just....stood there, for a moment. Their eyes had locked, light to dark, and they both realized things had....changed. Lucius cocked his head and looked at Adrian, and there was a strange tension in him. His anger had changed into something else. It could go either way. God, if he played this wrong, he was going to lose his best friend.   
Adrian waved his wand at the door, locking it, and then said, carefully keeping tones out of it, "Yeah. Yeah, go ahead....if you want to." There were a host of things implied in that, and Adrian hoped, so hoped...he'd want to.   
And of all the things he could have done, somehow it surprised Adrian when Lucius took his hand, and kissed his wrist, lightly, once, twice, three, four times, where the imprint of his fingers showed red against the skin. And then he turned his arm over, kissing where the thumb had marked him. Adrian's eyes were wide, and slowly, slowly, he reached one hand out and touched Lucius's head, stroking over the hair back and down to where it was moored with a tie at the base of his neck, then pulling the end and letting his hair free. His fingers caressed Lucius's neck as he pulled the ribbon away. Soft hair, like satin. Lucius shivered, and looked up at Adrian. There were suddenly a thousand questions in his mind, Adrian knew. Lucius overanalyzed everything. He was going to think too much again. Screw that.   
"Are you...."  
"Lucius." said Adrian. "Shut up." And he leaned forward and kissed him.  
If anyone had looked in on that particular dorm room, they would have found the two boys curled together like puppies in a basket in one bed that night. Adrian didn't get much sleep, but it wasn't for the reasons he'd thought.


	5. Chapter 4 In which Lucius recieves some ...

Chapter 4  
  
June 1960   
  
Lucius woke late, and yawned. The memory of the day before returned...his sixteenth birthday. There had been discreet presents at breakfast, and later, snatched in fifteen frantic moments during the "little gathering" of the trueblooded wizards of his social circle, a more personal present from Adrian. Not even the firewhiskey he was served when he sat with the men around the table after dinner had rinsed the taste of him from his mouth. He smiled, and stretched, languidly.   
  
Bath, and brunch, and a long session of trying out his new broom. He was sweaty when he came in, and was intercepted by a house-elf with a message.  
He found his father in the green study.  
"Get cleaned up," said Etienne Malfoy, his pale eyes travelling slowly over his son's frame. "We're going to Diagon Alley. I have some business to attend to there, and an element of your education to attend to."  
Lucius nodded, and at his father's faint motion of dismissal, left the room, headed up to his suite. He knew that he was lucky to get this much of a warning, let alone so much of an explanation.   
As he tilted his head back to wash the soap from his hair, it occured to him that he was a little excited about this. But then again, he'd not done much since he got home from school, and his father had been hinting all month that when sixteen and of age, he'd begin letting him in on some elements of his life that he'd hitherto kept hidden. Now was the time.   
The education he'd mentioned could be anything from a series of personal introduction to the dubious sources from whom his father accrued some of his more interesting magical items, to a dinner with some of his Ministry colleagues, or something more mundane, like how to inspect a business that ran itself in absentia. Maybe the clothes would indicate what was going on.   
But, beyond being some of his new robes, tailored to accentuate his slim height, the clothes hanging on the dressing stand told him nothing. As he was fastening the last clasp, his father walked in, looked him over, and nodded. "You'll do. You'll want a cloak. It's going to rain."  
Lucius slid his wand into the sleeve of his robe, darted a final glance at the mirror, and, picking up his cloak from the house-elf, followed his father out. They encountered his mother in the upstairs hall, and Lucius noticed she looked slightly worried.   
"We'll be gone all night," Lucius said to her. "Don't wait up."  
"I won't," she said, her voice preoccupied. But her eyes rested on him with real concern, and her cheek was cool against his as she kissed him farewell.   
  
They Apparated to Diagon Alley, and strolled along the street. It wasn't until his father stopped and said, "Ah, a busy night, I see," that Lucius actually saw the building, wedged in between two others. Its frontage gave nothing away...an awning, and two discreet bouncers, and a door that bore the number 1069 in gold letters.   
The bouncers bowed. "Mr. Malfoy, welcome," said one, opening the door for him. He nodded, and walked on through, and the bouncer bowed to him. Lucius saw the glint of intelligence in his eyes, and was surprised.   
The lobby was, at first glance, that of a luxurious hotel. Something about the air of the clerks, though, told him differently. But before he could pursue it further, a manager was bowing them into another room, and a coffee set being brought, all of it by hand.   
Etienne Malfoy accepted a cup, then looked at the manager. "I trust everything is in order for my son's....entertainment?"   
"Yes, indeed. If you will just follow the boy, there...."  
Lucius could take a cue. He rose, bowed to his father, and left. The boy took him through the apparently empty lobby, and up a set of stairs. Once he crossed the bend on the stairs, though, the art began to get....interesting. He was keeping up with his guide, but inwardly he was thinking, _damn, I didn't know that was possible_! He was a little flushed when the boy arrived at a door, an unobtrusive gold number the only marking. "If you have any needs at all, just let us know, " the boy said, and slipped away with a speed that made Lucius think he was part house-elf. It left Lucius facing a discreet door, in a discreet corridor, with not a bloody clue as to what to do. What the hell, he thought, and turned the knob, and walked in.   
The door shut behind him with a soft well-bred thud, but he didn't hear it. He was staring at the woman on the bed. Part veela, from the look of her, tall, with long dark hair, and she was quite naked. _Attending to my education...well, father, I think this is going to be one of the single more enjoyable lessons you ever gave me_. He smiled, unfastening his robe, as he walked toward the bed.   
  
It did not surprise Lucius to find his father lounging against the mantelpiece, a subtle air of relaxation about him, when he came out of the bathroom. The woman was gone, the bed remade.   
"When you're dressed, we'll go," he said, and Lucius nodded, reaching for his clothes, which were draped neatly on a stand nearby. He distinctly remembered them being flung, but that was house-elves for you. He pulled on his clothes, slipped into his robe, and fastened it.   
"I selected her myself," his father said, in an unusually expansive way. "There are other...elements...of your education to be seen to, in that regard, but she assures me you two made a good beginning." There was nothing to be said to that, so Lucius didn't.   
It was not until they were out, strolling along darkened streets, cloaked and anyonymous, that Lucius dared to ask the question that had been nagging at him since the shower.  
"Why did you do this...tonight?"  
Etienne Malfoy laughed, amazing his son. _Damn, getting laid puts him in a really good mood_, Lucius thought, and waited.   
"It is, as I said, an element of your education. It would not do for a Malfoy to be crude and unskilled in the _ars amoris_, any more than for you to fail Potions."  
Lucius nodded. He noted that he had been brought to and from the brothel in such a way that he could find it again. "Am I permitted to return on my own?"  
His father looked at him in mild surprise. "Of course. Moderation in all things, but it's better than you getting some mudblood pregnant. Don't spend all your allowance on whores, and make no promises."  
His father's tone was final enough that Lucius took it for the end of the conversation. The sun was lightening the eastern sky when they Apparated to Malfoy Manor. Lucius went immediately to his room. He found sleep came quite easily.   
  
Two days later, he returned. He found arrangements had been made...the same part-veela awaited him, and showed him how to please a woman.   
As the weeks went by, he returned. He kept learning...the different ways to give a woman pleasure from mouth, and hands, and skillful use of what nature had given him, the tricks of dominance and of submission, the games where pain blended with pleasure. He smiled when a young man was brought in, and thought of Adrian, lovely Adrian, and enjoyed the differences and the similarities.   
And then one day, one last trip before he went back to Hogwarts, the young page did not lead him to a room. He picked his choice from a book, over coffee in a small room. The part-veela, who had never given him her name, was not among them, and he realized that his education was ended. He remembered his father's words, "Make no promises", and understood.  
They were useful lessons, even now... the subtle air of mastery that told someone that you were their world until you chose to release them, trained into a sharp glance, was often enough to prevent open scuffling among first-years fighting for their places, enough to back down a rival for power. And Adrian had no complaints about his new skills. But he'd gotten the taste for a woman, too...the softness, the flavor, the feeling. And he decided that what he needed was a girlfriend. Definitely, he needed a girlfriend. 


	6. Chapter 5 In which Evadne goes on a dat...

Chapter 5  
  
September, 1960  
  
"What's on your mind, Lucifer?" said Adrian softly. They'd had one bout, a quick round to satisfy bodies that had been apart for four weeks, and now they were just enjoying being there, together, now that school had started again. They were curled in Adrian's bed, skin glowing in the light of the single candle on Lucius's desk.   
Lucius was startled enough to blurt it out. "Evadne Norton."  
"If you want to, go for it," Adrian said, quite casually.   
Lucius sat up and looked at Adrian, who pulled him back down.   
"Well, it's not like you're going to marry her," Adrian said reasonably. "And you like both."  
"Unlike you," Lucius said. Adrian shrugged, and the sheet slid down his torso. It was immensely distracting, the way that dark line of hair ran right down the center of his belly and made Lucius think of where it ended. Made him want to trace it with tongue and teeth...  
"I'm reasonably certain that when the time comes I can close my eyes and think of England," he said. "But I'm not going to until then. Boys are more my style."  
"I'd noticed," said Lucius with a laugh. "But, yeah, pulling a bird occasionally would be nice. And she's not a bitch like Lacerta, and, as you said, I'm not going to marry her."  
Adrian smiled at him. "I know I've got something you like that she doesn't have. So I'm not worried, and not jealous." He licked his lips slowly, and Lucius flushed. It made Adrian smile, slow and sensual, and Lucius's breath catch in his throat.   
"Yeah, you've got something I like," he said, leaning in and breathing in Adrian's ear, just to watch the way he blushed. "And I'm on top this time."   
And neither one of them talked about Evadne Norton again that night.

"Hey," a pleasant male voice said, and Evadne jumped as the hand was laid on her shoulder. "Sorry," she said. "I was so far into this thing for Ancient Runes that I didn't hear you."  
"That's fine," he said, and smiled that smile that Evadne had always wanted to see directed at her. "I just wanted to ask if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade with me this Saturday, since there isn't a game."  
"I....oh, yes, of course...um, what time?"  
"Oh, one? Will that work for you?"  
"Absolutely."  
"Great," he said, and smiled again, and the hand on her shoulder tightened and then trailed off in an almost caress that had all her skin on alert. She turned back to her book, but couldn't see the words.   
Lucius Malfoy had asked her out. Oh. My. God. Only the single most handsome boy in her house...hell, in the school. He was a bloody savant with Charms, and he had a gift with potions that Professor Keriell said was hereditary. And he was only slightly less good with Transfiguration and Arithmancy. He was gorgeous too, an ice prince with his fair skin, so-blond-it's-white hair, and pale grey eyes in sharply carved features. He wore his hair long, and it reached all the way down his back, now, cultivated as patiently and carefully as any woman would hers. Her hands imagined sinking into it, and she shivered, closed her book, and went up to her dorm, where she could brood in privacy.   
What to wear, what to do with her hair, and oh, God, it really was true, he really wanted to spend time with her. Maybe, maybe, this was a sign that after all this time, she was being accepted. Lucius Malfoy was rapidly becoming one of the arbiters in Slytherin house's internal politics, and if he liked her....Oh, new worlds opened up. Their last two years would be....good. She went to the library with stars in her eyes.   
  
"You look happy," said Arthur. "What's going on?"  
"Lucius asked me to go to Hogsmeade with him on Saturday," she said happily. She sat down, and opened her Arithmancy book, still smiling.   
Arthur didn't answer immediately. She looked at him. "What's wrong?"  
He shook his head. "I...don't want to make you angry with me. And you deserve all the happiness you can find."  
"I hear a but coming, Arthur."  
"Well, I don't know if it's my own dislikes or house politics or something else," he said unhappily. "It's just... you're my friend, and I wouldn't leave a dog I didn't like to the tender mercies of Lucius Malfoy."  
The statement bit into her, and her voice was sharp when she replied. "Then it's a good thing, isn't it, that you don't have any say in this?"  
"Evvie, I....He looked at her, and sighed. "Oh, to hell with it. What are you doing for your Divination project?"  
And they said nothing more about it. They walked back up toward the school, hand in hand.   
"Thank you for a lovely day, Lucius," she said. He smiled. It was a warm night, and they were enjoying it.   
"It was my pleasure, Evadne," he said. They came to a bend in the path, and paused to enjoy the view of the castle in the last rays of twilight.   
"It's beautiful," she said, quietly.  
"Not as beautiful as you," he said. His hand caressed her hair, and she was surprised by the jolt that ran through her. She didn't resist when his hand raised her chin to meet his kiss. Oh, he could kiss. And his hair WAS soft, like satin, and it was just possible this late to stroke his chin against the grain and feel the faint roughness of his beard. He was so beautiful, not just handsome, and he touched her with a careful tension that told her that he wanted her too.   
They heard footsteps and conversation, and he smiled against her mouth, and drew them both off the road, behind a tree. It was a large tree, and completely blocked them from the road. "Now, where were we?" he murmured, and she giggled. She'd never felt like this before, and although dimly it occured to her that probably this was what her mother had tried to warn her about, her reason was lost in the myriad of sensations.   
At length, she returned to her senses. He was lying there on his robe, wearing just the linen shirt and trousers he wore beneath it, cradling her in his arms, one hand stroking her thigh. She realized she didn't have any knickers on, and flushed, realizing what exactly he'd done. But there was a warm glow radiating through her that made her feel sleepy and languid, and somehow she couldn't be upset. She felt too good. He kissed her and whispered, "You're so beautiful, Evadne..." He shifted against her thigh, and she realized...oh. But he was making no move to have her reciprocate, and she really was glad since she didn't know how.   
She kissed him again, and said, "We've got to get back before curfew. Ogg will...."   
"Yes..." he said with a sigh. He handed her her knickers, and blushed slightly as she tucked them into an inner pocket of her robe. He pulled his own robe back on, and they walked back up to the castle and down into the dungeons, Evadne feeling so high she could have flown without a broom. More kisses at her door, and she hardly slept that night. But when she did, it was with the dream of his clever long-fingered hands playing her body like a harp, pleasure spilling through her body like the taste of chocolate spilling over her tongue.   
  
Lucius walked into his room, and a soft voice said, "Lumos". The candles lit, and the golden light showed the two four-poster beds, with Adrian sitting up in his, skin glowing in the candlelight. His hair was loose, spilling down over his chest and back in great glossy curls. He said, "How was your date?"  
"Promising," he said. "I figure in a couple weeks I'll be able to have her in any position I choose." He kicked off his shoes and unfastened his robe.   
Adrian smiled. "And did you enjoy it?" His voice gave it a more intimate meaning, and he shifted his body in a clear invitation. But he was in his own bed. Lucius could come to him, or go sleep alone. His choice. Adrian was giving him space to figure it out.   
However, he had it figured out. At least for tonight.   
"I didn't, no...would you like to help me out?" he said, quite casually, pulling off his shirt and waving his wand at the row of buttons that fastened his trousers. They unfastened themselves, and he stepped out of them, banishing them to a hamper with a flick of his wand.   
"My pleasure," Adrian said. And it was quite clear that he meant it. 


	7. Chapter 6 In which Evadne keeps an appo...

Chapter 6  
  
Evadne scowled at the Arithmancy problem again. Exactly how one got from here to there..."Help!" she finally said, looking at Iolanthe.   
"Here," said Iolanthe. "It's like this. You're balancing the sides of the equation, you see." She made a couple quick diagrams on the corner of a piece of parchment. "So you just go along like this, and..."   
And just like that, Evadne got it. Her eyes lit up, and she smiled brilliantly at Iolanthe.   
"Thank you, ever so much," she said.   
The older girl smiled. Iolanthe Weasley was tall, with a sturdy build that was well-muscled from playing Chaser for Gryffindor. She wore her flaming hair in a short ponytail, and nearly always had a merry grin on her face.   
"It's just learning that little trick," she said. "No problem, really."  
"Hey," Evadne asked her, "What are you going to do when you get out?"  
"Weellll..." she drawled, realizing she had the attention of the whole table. "I got a letter today...from the Aurors. I passed the tests, and they'll have me."  
The whoop of jubilation that passed around the table was no less heartfelt for being subdued to the appropriate volume for the library.  
"That's great," said Tristan Ralston, shoving his pale brown hair out of his face.   
"Oh, wonderful, Lannie!" her brother said, using her childhood nickname. "You must owl Mum immediately, she's been so worried!"   
"Oh, don't be such a prat, Arthur!" she said. "I want to tell mum face to face. We're done in two weeks."  
"Fine," he said. "Then you can write her and tell her that much and she'll stop sending me owls about do I know and are there any indications...I'm expecting a Howler any day."  
"For you, Arthur, since you're my favorite brother...."  
"Your only brother...."  
"I will at least get our mother off your back."   
They all laughed, and then Evadne looked up. Her face changed, softening and lighting up, and a great warm smile spread over it.   
"Hey," she said, softly.  
Lucius stood at the end of the table and smiled at her. "I thought you'd be up here swotting away," he said. "After dinner." He pressed a note into her hand, and gave her a look more formidibly sensual than a kiss would have been. And then he turned and left, leaving Evadne staring after him. Once the door to the corridor closed behind him, she sighed deeply and looked at the note. It had been folded cleverly into a little paper snake, and when she ran a finger down it, consideringly, it jumped in the air, unfolded itself, and displayed a message. After a moment, the words vanished, and the little snake refolded itself, sitting obediently on the table.   
"Whoo," said Iolanthe. "The boy's got style, I must admit." There was a certain bright interest in her eyes, and a slightly incredulous grin touched the corners of her mouth.   
"Yes," said Arthur reluctantly. He was looking at Evadne, who had lost all pretense of studying. She was looking at the little snake, cheeks flushed, eyes bright. Finally she said, "I....I'm going to go study in my room. Um, I'll catch up to you all later."  
She piled her books into her arms, stuck the little snake in her pocket, and hurried from the library.   
Arthur just shook his head.   
  
He was sunk in thinking when his sister entered the Gryffindor common room. She had expected to see him talking with Molly Allen, but he was alone.   
"What's wrong?" she said.   
He shook his head as she dropped down on the couch beside him. "I hate seeing something going wrong and not being able to do a bloody thing to stop it," he said.   
"What ever do you mean?" Iolanthe asked him, with concern.  
"Evadne," he said.   
Iolanthe gave a great sigh of comprehension. "She loves him," she said finally.   
"Yes," said Arthur.   
"Is it that you want to date her?" his sister asked.   
"No, no," Arthur said. "Molly and I are....well, we're us," he said finally. "Evadne's my friend."  
"So what are you worried about?"   
"He's bad for her."  
"I don't know, Arthur," she said. "She's not the only girl who lights up when she sees her boyfriend. He's polite, he's always giving her little presents, and treats her wonderfully."  
"I suppose," Arthur said consideringly. "You do know he's pulling her, don' t you?"  
"Arthur!" Iolanthe said, scandalized. Then she relented. "Well, it's pretty obvious...I just wasn't going to say anything. But again, they're not the only pair. So what's your problem with it?"  
"What's going to happen a year from now?" Arthur said.   
"You'll graduate and....oh."   
"Exactly," he said. "Molly and I are already talking about the future. She wants to name our first son William after her dad. And I know we're not the only couple doing it. But do you honestly see Malfoy there taking Evadne, whose grandparents are muggles, home to be his wife?"   
Iolanthe shook her head. "I hate to say it, but no. He won't."  
"And she -worships- him," Arthur said. "I just don't see it ending any other way than in a lot of tears on her side."  
"You're right." she said consideringly. "They marry like princes, those sort do. It's all about dynasty. Besides, he'll probably want to make carbon copies of his pretty self, and that would take marrying a blond cousin."  
"That's true," he said, consideringly. "You know, with Molly's hair and mine, we should have all redheads ourselves."  
"Well, God help us if any of them are like you." his sister said. "You very nearly bought out Zonko's last week, I saw you. What ever are you planning?"  
Arthur's face lit up. "In this case, my dear sister, ignorance is the best defence for you."  
She sat there and watched him head up to his room with a sinking feeling of dread in her heart.   
  
Evadne walked up to the North tower, turned left instead of right, went down the corridor, and stopped in front of an old and plainly disused door. She tapped it with her wand and said, _Arbitrii mihi iura mei_, and the door obediently opened.   
_ Arbitri mihi iura mei._ My laws are my will. The Malfoy family motto. How well it suited Lucius, her beautiful lover, a law unto himself. He would be there soon, she knew, but the wards that had opened so obediently for her were his creation, as was the sofa and bed inside. She went inside, and folded her robe over the foot of the bed. Her other clothes followed, leaving her in bra and knickers, the set he'd bought her. They were black lace and satin, and made her feel deliciously wicked. She'd have to transfigure them and hide them before she went home at the end of term. Her mother was so invested in Evadne being a nice girl, a good girl. She laid down on the bed, on her side, facing the door in an attractive pose, laughing to herself. _I AM very good...Lucius says so. Natural talent, he calls it. _  
The door opened and he stepped in, eyes widening with appreciation and something darker as he took in Evadne, her olive skin contrasted against the white linen of the sheets. "Oh, VERY nice," he said, voice dropping into an intimate tone. "Have you had them on all day?"  
"Yes, Lucius," she said. God, just his voice made her wet. "It was like having your hands on me. I could barely pay attention in class."  
He smiled, and took off his own robe. "Really.....Get off there and let me say hello properly."  
She got off the bed and walked over toward him, accepting a languid kiss and then stepping back, kneeling down in front of him, looking up. He looked so hungry. "Oh, yes....that would be a good start," he said, and she smiled.Slow and long and hot as hell it would be tonight, one last hot time before finals and home. She wanted to get the best out of it she could. He ran his hands through her black curls, and a shiver went through her. This was going to be very, very good. 


	8. Chapter 7 In which Evadne issues an invi...

She forgot the question until they were both getting dressed again. But waiting was no good...they had exams starting Monday and neither of them would get together like this while exams were on. And she didn't want to ask in front of the House.   
"Lucius?"  
"Yes?"  
"I've got an invitation for you from my mum and dad to come home with me for Christmas."  
"Oh?"  
"Yeah, she said that it was high time they met you."  
"Indeed," he said. His voice was a little odd, but she supposed that was due to being muffled in his shirt as he put it on. "Unfortunately, my father has already informed me that we're traveling this year. I believe we're visiting a business colleague of his in Sicily."  
"It'll have to be another time, then. Perhaps they can come up for a weekend sometime and we can have a visit with them. It's kind of traditional in my family to take boyfriends home before they get around to proposing."

Lucius was preoccupied during dinner, and Adrian asked him about it when they got back to the room they shared.   
"Oh, it's that damned bint," he said, irritably.  
"What's wrong?"  
"Wants to take me home to be shown off."  
"What's she think, that you're going to propose this spring?" Adrian said with a laugh.  
"Apparently," he said.   
"Well, my friend, you'll have to do something about that."  
"Yes," said Lucius. "I told her we were traveling for the holidays, but she's perfectly capable of presenting me with a fait accompli. And my parents would roast me slowly if I got a mudblood like her pregnant. "  
"Then you'd better have something available to hold over her head, " Adrian said with a shrug. "Make her be willing to go away quietly around about May."  
Lucius turned and looked at Adrian, with a grin slowly spreading over his house. "You're bloody brilliant, Adrian, you know that?"  
The other boy grinned."You've said so. I must say, I'm looking forward to visiting over the break, you know...."  
"Oh really?" Lucius's tone implied that he knew the reason quite well.   
Adrian just grinned at him. "I didn't think you minded."  
"Not at all, no. Do you have dress robes? There's going to be a dinner party and reception, according to this note from my father."  
"Of course I do," Adrian said. "Who's coming?"  
"He doesn't say....probably everyone.""Hey, Lucius," said Evan Carlisle. He was a tall young man with piercing blue eyes, and dark wavy hair. He had it short for a wizard, barely touching his shoulders. They were at the Malfoy reception, both in black formal robes, and around them swirled the careful business of social manipulation and the greater game of politics and business.   
"Evan!" Lucius said warmly. Evan Carlisle had been something of a mentor to him in Slytherin house. "What have you been doing with yourself lately?"  
"Oh, a little of this, a little of that. Got a little money invested in some Muggle import-export businesses."  
"You'll lose your profit in conversion to Galleons," said Lucius judiciously.   
"There's so much profit here that you don't notice the Goblins skimming," said Evan with a grin.   
Lucius's brows went up.   
"So whose laws are you breaking, Evan?"  
"Muggle laws, mostly, although I found a chemist who has been developing the most interesting potions."  
"Drugs," Lucius said. Evan rolled his eyes.   
"Don't go all Gryffindor on me. There's a demand. I just inserted myself into the supply chain so that I could skim the profits."  
"And you haven't gotten any Aurors snooping around?"  
"Loopholes, my dear boy, loopholes and holding companies." They both smiled.  
"So what about these potions? Were you hoping to get my mother's approval or mine?"  
"Yours, although a statement on the safety of these from Libitina Beauvais would go over well in certain circles. It's pretty interesting," Evan said, taking a vial out of an inner pocket. "Absorbed through the mucous membranes. You don't have to ingest it per se. Undetectable in alcohol, and rather potentiated by it. It makes you feel on top of the world, and it makes for truly amazing sex. You don't remember much of what you did while you were high, but considering what it mostly makes you want to do is find someone and screw...well, it's not like you're going to commit murder unknowingly. GOOD stuff."   
"Really," said Lucius consideringly, taking the vial and looking at the amber brown liquid that shifted, viscous, within. "What's the dosage?"  
"One drop, to start. Tolerance does develop, though, we found. More than four drops at a time and you've got some nasty but temporary side effects. "  
"Hmmm....any way I could get my hands on a bit? Just to try, you understand."  
"Of course. You have it in your hands. Just do me the favor of writing it down, like Potions class. Every anecdote is helpful to the chemist."  
"Of course," said Lucius, smiling. Evan was tapped on the shoulder by someone else, and Adrian strolled over to Lucius.   
"What's up with Carlisle?"  
"Oh, this and that. We were talking investing and such."  
"How very interesting... you know, there were some of us going to get up a game, if you're interested."  
"I am indeed," Lucius said. "Bridge?"  
"I'll partner you. You're impeccable in strategy and vicious in play."  
Lucius laughed. "And you surprise with the risks you take and manage to pull off. People play like they live, I've found."  
"Oh, quite. Shall we?"  
  
And they retired to the blue salon, and in the soothing round of card play, Lucius found the idea he'd had germinating into a lovely plan. A very lovely plan. 


	9. Chapter 8 In which Lucius and Evadne cel...

_**Author's Note: **This particular chapter includes an intimate scene involving drugs, multiple partners, and dubious consent. If any of this bothers you, please go on to the next chapter. It has been edited down as far as it will go to meet community standards. The original is available on my website. _

Both Lucius and I were preoccupied when we got back from break. But he promised me that he had something special planned for Valentine's Day, to make up for it. So I pretended not to notice his whispering in corners with friends and his unusual increase in mail, until Valentine's Day. Whatever it was, it would be dramatic.   
  
There were valentines there from my friends, and one elegant paper swan. It read, simply, "5 pm. The Birches, Hogsmeade". I remembered the pretty house, set back among the birch trees, but was amazed. If he'd rented the house for us....oh, this one was going to be good. So I went to my trunk and found a little thing I'd ordered from Madam Malkin, and dressed very carefully indeed before setting off to Hogsmeade. Tonight was going to be unforgettable.   
He opened the door when I knocked, smiling at me, and greeting me with a gentle kiss. "Happy Valentine's Day," he said. "Did you think I'd forget?"  
"No," I said, "but I didn't expect...this..." My voice trailed off as I looked at the lovely table set for two, and he smiled.   
"The entire house is ours until morning," he said. "I have so much planned for us..."  
"Well, the dinner looks marvelous," I said, smiling. "So let's eat, and enjoy."  
He uncorked the wine and poured for both of us, and we ate. I'd never had food like this. The beef was so tender it melted in my mouth, the wine coiling around my tastebuds like a lover, and the chocolate mousse made me close my eyes and shiver, it was so good.   
He waved his wand and banished the dishes to the kitchen, and summoned a cup and a bottle.   
"A last drink, Evadne?" he said, smiling. I could smell it as he poured it into the cup. "It's a raspberry liqueur." He grinned. He knew I adored raspberries. "And something a little extra." He took a vial out of his pocket.   
"What is it, Lucius?"  
"It...heightens the senses," he said. "I got it last time we went home, for us to share. Tried some myself," he said, and grinned slightly. "The feeling of my hair down my back was almost too much. And that was before I took myself in hand."  
Oh, that was a very sensual image. I wanted to watch him do that sometime. I could imagine the way he'd look as the flush crept down his torso....  
"It sounds like fun," I said. "But only if you share it with me."  
"Only one glass," he said. "I intended to."  
He poured it into the liqueur, and stirred it with his finger. "To us," he said, and took a sip, then handed it to me. We traded sips of the rich raspberry liquid, tasting like summer and sin, and I could feel the alcohol coiling through me, relaxing me. And then he set it down, and reached for me.   
His hand stroked down my hair, kissed the outer rim of my ear and ran down my throat, a fingertip's touch. My eyes slammed shut as the pleasure of it roared through my body. Oooh. Party, all right, just he and I. God, he knew how to do it. I was so ready for him, just like that, skin too tight and my clothes too much on my skin. And he knew it, too. He smiled at me. "Shall we take this into the bedroom?"  
It's hard to walk when you're kissing each other, and by the time we got there his hair was loose from its tie and his lips a little red. There was color in his cheeks, and his eyes were bright.   
When he released my mouth, we both tore at each other's clothing. Get it off, touch skin. I couldn't help thinking we made a lovely contrast, his light against my darkness. And then his hands touched me and I stopped thinking at all. Where had he learned the little motion that made my knees weak? There was something behind me. Oh, a bed. Yes. Lying down would be good now. My head was spinning too much to stand. He pulled me to him, and the sensations spun up like a fire. Familiar fire with him, light angel burning me into pleasure...   
  
He kissed me again, deep, took my lower lip between his teeth, and bit lightly, pleasure and pain and pleasure from the pain...a little more than should be so early in the night. Something shrieked alarm in my head. Too much, too fast, something wrong.... I pulled back, and I searched his face with eyes fogged with something more than my own desire. I could feel it in me now, like gasoline on a fire. And I could see in his face his truth, that he'd given me this...stuff. And he had no remorse. I had been wrong. So wrong.   
"Too much..."  
"Don't worry," he said, smiling at me with his cool, elegant smile. It was the look he had in class when he showed that he knew more than the teacher thought he should. "You won't remember anything. I, on the other hand, intend to savor the memories of tonight."  
"We drank from the same cup!" I tried to get up, but he was lying half on top of me, and with the drug in me I couldn't shove him off. I didn't know that I really wanted to.  
"There's such a thing as tolerance," he said, and leaned in and licked the side of my throat to hear me whimper. "I've been saving this for now."  
"Lucius, I don't understand," I said. There was something wrong, but the heat in my body made me want to forget about it.   
"Nothing to understand," he said, and moved.   
The slide of him against me sent a wave of fire straight up my spine and down my limbs. I saw rose-pink golden light behind my lids, and my head felt disconnected, and I was flying, soaring, attached but not attached to my skin. Every touch stoked the fire higher, and even the sensation of his teeth in the muscle of my neck as he clutched me to him at the end was a pleasure, accented by the drug. I had never felt so good in my life.   
  
He rested, panting, for a moment, his head laid in the curve of my shoulder. And then he pulled away and sat up. I couldn't yet. The golden pink light still had me held motionless with ripples of pleasure running through me just from breathing. "Join the party," he said, and the mirror on the wall opened up. I knew the faces. Gil Parkinson, his short hair damp with sweat and his face flushed. Gus Rookwood, naked to the waist, his hair loose around his face. He was looking at me with a hunger that scared me. Adrian Mulciber with color up under his dark skin, and his pants fastening loose, loose like his shining curls hanging down his narrow back. Terry Nott was licking his lips and staring at me.   
Lucius reached for his robe, and threw it on casually over his naked body. "Can't have a party with just two people," he said, and moved away from the bed. He looked mussed and immensely gorgeous.   
"Very nice performance, Lucius," Adrian said, looking him over. Lucius met his eyes with a slow lazy grin that reeked of sex. He leaned back in the armchair by the bed and said, "If you want it, Adrian, come get it. If you want the bike there, take a ride. Just don't break it, lads, don't even chip the finish. She won't remember this in the morning."  
There were nods, and then there was skin on mine again, but it was not Lucius's."Mmm, Lucifer," said Adrian, and I thought, how right, how true, and I'll remember none of this. I could see him still, until Gus Rookwood stepped between us, and he was kissing Adrian, light on dark, and he was laughing. And I cried.

When she woke up, she was in her own bed. She felt dirty, and went and took a bath, looking at her body. No marks. No sensation of anything being wrong. just memories of her boyfriend and some wonderfully intense lovemaking, and something about a potion they'd share. "An amazing potion," she said softly to herself. "He's so wonderful, my bright angel..." and her smile when she saw him at dinner was brilliant and filled with love.Gus Rookwood cornered Lucius on the way back from dinner. "I developed the film," he said. "How many sets of prints do you want?"  
"Just the one, I think," he said. "But I want the negatives."   
Rookwood looked mildly disappointed.   
"I know the potential, Gus," he said. "But I had them taken for my own reasons."  
"Yeah, right," he said, with resignation. "Reckon they do lose their potential if every wanker in the place has got a set." He licked his lips. "Hell of a night that was."  
"Exactly," Lucius said. "And we both understand that you recieved your compensation in advance."   
Rookwood nodded. "I'll bring 'em over after curfew," he said, and moved to intercept Lacerta Cadmon on her way up to her dorm. Smiling, Lucius went on to his. Everything was coming together nicely. 


	10. Chapter 9 In which Lucius asks his mothe...

Evadne finished her pumpkin juice, abandoned the toast she'd been nibbling, and headed off to the library. She had a couple hours before her first class on Mondays.   
Halfway there she felt nauseated, and dashed for the nearest loo. Holding onto the commode, a truly unpleasant thought wound its way into her mind. For the last six weeks she'd been nauseated every morning. Tireder than usual. And her regular-as-clockwork monthlies hadn't happened.

Instead of going to the library, she turned the other way, and went to see Madam Pickering. She left the Infirmary in a daze. Mid-December. Congratulations, they'd be wanting to get married when school finished next month, then, wouldn't they?  
She wandered toward her room, and it was only when he said her name twice that she realized it was Lucius she'd walked into. She looked at him, and burst into tears. "Oh, come now," he said, and handed her a handkerchief, walking her into his bedroom.and sitting her on the bed. "Now what's the matter?" he said, holding her hand.   
"I....Lucius, I'm pregnant," she said, looking at him in distress.   
"I....see, " he said, and she felt his hand go stiff for a moment. He stood and walked over to the other side of the room, staring at his bookcase. "Well," he said. "I suppose arrangements must be made."  
"Yes...I wasn't intending to get married right out of school, but...."  
And then she fell silent, because he was shaking his head. "What ever gave you the impression that I would marry **you**?" he said, with incredulity. "You are nothing! No blood, no money, no influence."  
"I'm the mother of your child!"   
"And as such my family will make you an allowance for its maintenance and schooling. Blood is blood.That will be protected. Or if you prefer you may give over the child once it is born and we will see it cared for."  
"But what will I do?" she said softly, staring at him in disbelief.  
"What you do isn't my concern,' he said, and his voice was cold. "Will you accept the arrangements the Malfoys make?"  
"I don't want arrangements, I want you!"  
"You can't have me, you idiot," he said. "I have a lot of things to do before I get married. And then I'll pick out a proper pureblooded girl to bear my heir."  
"I'm not going to go away, Lucius!"  
"I see, " he said. "Then I will. This is the way it's done. Either take it, or don't, but it's over."  
She began crying again. "I loved you!"  
He rolled his eyes. "Then you were a fool and an idiot."   
"And your parents will be SO thrilled, won't they, if I show up on their doorstep," she pushed. His back went rigid. And then he opened a desk drawer and took out an envelope.  
"Oh, you won't do anything like that, Evadne."  
"What's going to stop me?"  
"This." He handed her the envelope, and saw her pale as she looked at the first picture. He took them from her limp hand.   
"You bastard," she said, tonelessly. "Valentine's Day. The potion. Missing time. You set me up, you prick!"  
"I have things to do and they don't involve me having a Mudblood hanging on my arm. You know and I know that child's mine. The smart thing to do is to accept an offer from the family solicitor, and go on with life. But if you want to play that way...my parents won't pay for the baby of someone who hard evidence shows was the Slytherin bike."  
Evadne's eyes blazed. "You think you have me in a corner, don't you. I think I have you in a corner. Paternity tests are a simple matter, and I just bet the newspapers would LOVE to hear about this." She smiled and said, "And now, I've got classes. I"ll talk to you Saturday, after you get done playing. Do enjoy your final game, hm?"  
  
The door slammed behind her, and Lucius considered his options. Finally, he turned and reached for a book in his bookcase. It read on the spine, "Advanced Transfiguration" and looked battered. He tapped it with his wand and said, "Non cedit umbra soli" and the book shimmered in his hand and changed. The new book had nothing on the spine or cover, but it was bound in an odd looking skin. He opened it and began leafing through pages of handwritten notes, before pausing. Then, he reached for a piece of parchment and a quill, and began writing.  
  
_To my most esteemed mother, greetings...._  
  
Libitina Malfoy, a tall fair woman with ice blue eyes, turned from her notes to see a house elf, looking at her timorously and holding a sealed letter at the doorway to her workroom. "Begging your pardon, madam, but is from Master Lucius and says is urgent, and is sealed with blood seal."  
"I do wonder," she said, speculatively, and held out a hand for the letter. "I'll take tea in the green salon, Dobby."  
It nodded and vanished, and she looked at it, then smiled. "That serious, my son?" she said aloud, and pricked her finger with a gesture. Tracing a pattern upon the seal with her bloody finger, she said, "Non cedit umbra soli" and then murmured a healing spell as the letter opened, shimmering as the words formed themselves.   
  
_To my most esteemed mother, greetings from her son.   
I have encountered a minor difficulty in preparing a potion. I possess the wormwood, the tansy, and the black rose petals. However, it also requires the fresh eyes of an amphisbaena, and getting that without notice will be slightly more difficult under the circumstances. I did offer the girl the usual alternatives, but she thinks herself worth a Malfoy and so other steps must be taken.   
Sincerely,  
Lucius Etienne Malfoy_  
  
She sighed and shook her head. "Really, Lucius. I do wish you'd left girls alone a bit longer....this is an unnecessary complication. Still, you are handling it like a man, so I'll assist you."  
Libitina Beauvais Malfoy folded the letter and walked out of her lab, thinking about how to manage this little trick. _Ah, the cuff links he bought and left behind... an enchantment for clear thinking just in time for his NEWTS.... _

_  
_ "Mail, Lucius," said Adrian, and Lucius caught a package as it fell. He smiled. "Ah, from my mother. I wonder what she's sent me?"  
He tapped the box with his wand and the packaging unraveled to reveal a small box. He smiled. "Oh, they're done," he said, and opened it. Adrian and Terry craned to see, and gasped. The cuff links inside were silver, set with a stone that shifted like mother of pearl but visibly gave off magic.   
"Those are amazing," Gil said. "What spells are on them?"  
"Clear vision, aid in concentration. They're for doing my NEWTS, " said Lucius, smiling. Several others crowded around to see, and he graciously passed the box around.   
"I'll go put these up, " he said. "And then I'll be with you for Potions."  
  
Once in his room, Lucius set the box down and tranfigured his wand into a stiletto. He pricked one finger, let three drops of blood fall onto the box, and then said, "Arbitrii mihi iura mei," and watched the box shimmer and transform. Then, when it was done, he healed his hand, set his wand back to normal, and tapped the box. It opened and inside lay two gelatinous bloody masses, in a stasis field. He smiled, and shut the box. He took a box out from under his bed and removed a small cauldron, whch a word raised to a normal size. Then, he put the contents of the box into it, and reshrunk it and replaced it. That done, he transfigured the box back to a jewel case, and took his cuff links out and put them into a box in his trunk, before heading off to class, brow unclouded. The eyes would dissolve in the potion over six hours, after which it would be ready to drink. And his problem would be solved.   
  
Evadne finally shoved her notes away and rubbed her eyes.   
"Going to stop for supper?" said Arthur. He looked as tired as she did. Revising was something everyone at the table took seriously, and at least three of them had NEWTs starting tomorrow.   
"I'm going to put this stuff back in my room and go on down," she said, smiling tiredly at him. "Thanks, Arthur, you've been a big help. I think I'm prepared."  
"Any time," he said. He looked at her again and said, "Is everything okay? You've been acting strangely the last couple of weeks."  
"Oh, yeah," she said. "I'm just tired. And Lucius and I had a big fight last week and...well, it's over."   
"I'm sorry, Evvie," Arthur said. She looked at him, and realized, despite the fights they'd had over Malfoy, he meant it. She smiled at him, and took his hand and squeezed it.   
"I'll be all right....but thanks. We'll have to get together when our NEWTS are over," she said.   
"Molly will want to come," he said, and Evadne laughed.   
"I'd love to meet her. We can invite all the swots, and have fun."   
"Great," said Arthur, "It's a date, then. "  
"Yeah. I"ll see you later, I'm starving," she said, and left the library.   
It was near supper time, and she was embarassingly hungry. But the light and the noise in the Great Hall was giving her a headache, and it was all she could do to drink her pumpkin juice. She was nearly blind with the pain, and grateful that Lucius was ignoring her in favor of an intense tactical debate with the other members of the Quidditch team. Instead, Adrian Mulciber had gotten her a fresh glass and cleaned up the mess when she had spilt her juice. Headaches always made her clumsy. She paused in the hall outside the common room, leaning against the cool stone. It felt very, very good. Her stomach lurched, and she sighed, inwardly. Oh, one of these. Bloody hell. The last thing she needed was one of the full-on sick headaches, with NEWTs tomorrow.   
"Are you okay, Evadne?" a voice said. It was one of the girls, Rita.  
"Just a headache...I'll go get a potion or something...."  
"You're white and sweating," Rita said doubtfully. "Shouldn't you go to Madam Pickering?"  
"Nothing she can do I can't, " said Evadne. "Darkness, silence, and rest, and I've got medicine to take the edge off it."  
"You can hardly walk," said Rita firmly. "I'll go fetch you something. I get them too."  
"Thanks," whispered Evadne. She collapsed on her bed and pulled the curtains shut and tried to breathe shallowly against the nausea. It didn't work, and she ran to the bathroom just before it hit. She rested there, leaning against the toilet, and managed to get back to her bed by the time Rita pulled her newly blond head out of her trunk with a vial in hand.. Rita put her head in. "Here's the....Oh, that won't work. Not if you're already vomiting and seeing double. You just drink this and go sleep it off," she said, taking in Evadne's pale face and shaking hands and exchanging the vial of medicine Evadne had for another one. It tasted foul. The ones good for you always did. But she did feel the godawful spinning receding, and she fell into sleep gratefully.   
  
She awoke in the night with pain ripping her gut, hot with fever, and she cried out, and couldn't stop sobbing. _It hurts, it hurts, oh, God, blood. I'm losing it._ Someone pulled her curtains aside. "What's wrong, Evadne...Oh, God!" Rita gasped, and Evadne heard running feet and a door slam before the pain grabbed her again. And then she wasn't thinking any more. It hurt too much.


	11. Chapter 10 In which Adrian exercises his...

"I'm coming, I'm coming," said Maude Pickering. She wasn't sure what exactly had Rita Skeeter up there babbling incoherently about a classmate and blood, but it sounded like something that she needed to see about.   
Rita led her into the room she shared with the other two girls. Lacerta Carlisle was sitting up in bed, and drew breath to complain as Madam Pickering opened the door, but she paid her no mind. The room smelled of blood, hot and coppery, and she saw why when she stepped around the corner of Evadne Norton's bed. _Losing the baby, poor girl. She'll do better in privacy, and this way they can get some sleep._ She summoned a stretcher and packing, and transfered Evadne up to the hospital wing. The girl was pale, moaning deeply in pain as the contractions hit, and Madam Pickering decided it would be more compassionate to give her a Dreamless Sleep potion. That way she'd sleep through it. Poor girl. She cast a spell, and nodded. Definitely losing it, and she'd have to be checked when she was done to make sure everything was all right. And then, considering the hour, she went back to bed, after setting an alarm to wake her for the next check.   
  
The room stank of blood, Lucius noticed, despite the efforts of the two house elves cleaning it. Lacerta Carlisle said, quite huffily, "Really, Rita, I don't know what you're...."  
_"Imperio,"_ said a soft voice behind him, and he glanced around to see the soft eyes of his best friend hard as he bent his will against hers. Lacerta's tirade faltered, and she drew back into her bed.  
_ I will never call his hobby useless again,_ thought Lucius.  
"I'm going to bed, Rita," Lacerta said. "Whatever you want to do is up to you." And she yanked the curtains closed.   
Adrian said, very quietly, "Seal her bed off so we can get this over with."   
Lucius set his jaw and set the spells. When he was done, you could have screamed next to that bed, but Lacerta wouldn't have wakened. The house elves finished and left, and Lucius began trying to get Rita, who was damn near hysterical, to talk. Adrian, meanwhile, was rifling quickly through a bundle of letters from Evadne's parents.   
"Now," he said to Rita. "What the HELL is going on?"  
"I....Oh, God, Lucius, she's dying and I did it!"  
"What do you mean?" he said.   
"She had a headache, I gave her a potion, but I must have given her the wrong one, oh, gods, I'm going to Azkaban...."  
"Do get control of yourself, Rita," he said. "No one's going to Azkaban here. Now, tell me what you did. You came in, she was being sick. You told me that already."  
"And I knew it was a migraine. So I went to my trunk, cause I suffer from them too, and got her some of my migraine potion."  
"I....see...." said Lucius. He looked at the distraught girl in front of him, and said, "Which one? The one with musty wheat and feverfew and rose thorns?"  
"Yes...." she said. "The other ones don't work once you've started vomiting."  
"I'll keep that in mind," he said. "Do you have one for normal headaches?" He figured she did. Rita dosed herself for everything.   
"Y-yes, but I don't see why...."   
"Get it out, please."  
She knelt and rooted in her trunk until she came up with a small glass phial. It had the label printed on it. Lucius took it from her. "Very good. Now, Rita, I have absolutely no interest in sending you to Azkaban. So if they ask you what you gave her...you gave her that. Just rose thorns and valerian and crushed ladybirds."  
He undid the corking on the vial, and tossed it down, before walking over to Evadne's bedside. "Here we go," he said softly, and laid it down on the bedside table. "Looks perfect. Are we set, Adrian?"  
"But I killed her...." Rita said, staring at the clean bed and the little phial lying on the table beside it, mute props in a play.   
"We're set," Adrian said, one hand indicating desk drawer, the other indicating the bin next to the desk.   
"Well, now, Rita," said Lucius, smiling softly, "If you did, I'm not telling, and neither is Adrian. Don't worry, your secret is safe with us. See, your tracks have been covered."  
Adrian smiled at her, and then yawned, waving his wand at the bed and releasing Lacerta from his curse. "I'm going back to bed, Lucius. Don't wake me when you come in, it's been exciting enough tonight already."

Lucius took down his silencing spells, and drew Rita out into the corridor. "See, problem solved."  
"Yes...." she said, and looked critically at his dressing gown. "I've cried all over that silk," she commented, and resolved it with a brisk flip of her wand, and another to her own face.   
He nodded. "Did I tell you blond suits you?" he said, as they walked out into the deserted common room. She smiled.   
"I'm glad, " she said. They sat down together, and he raised his hand to stroke her hair. She arched into the touch, just like petting a cat, and they sat in silence a moment.  
Finally, she said, "Lucius, why are you doing this?"  
"To comfort you," he said.   
She moved against him sinuously, looked him in the face, and said, "It isn't comfort I'm wanting tonight."  
He laughed, softly. "What a lovely coincidence....I'm not either." They both bore identically predatory smiles.   
"I'm looking forward to this," she murmured, and drew him over to an alcove in the corner of the room. Her silencing spells, he noticed, were as good as his own.   
  
The alarm went off two hours later, and Madam Pickering got out of bed and went to check on Evadne. She probably needed the padding replaced, but she should be waking up about now...she needed to drink some fluids to replace the lost blood. Poor girl. She stepped around the screen, and realized she was very wrong. The bed was red, bright red, blanket soaked, sheets soaked, and the only white thing there was Evadne.   
Madam Pickering cast charms to block the bleeding, to restore the blood lost....but it was no good. She called the Headmaster and bit her knuckle, crying, while he patted her shoulder and Evadne Norton slipped silently from life to death, a faint smile on her face. She had never awakened. 


	12. Chapter 11 In which the Head of Slytheri...

Professor Jowett looked at his house, most of them there and looking at him warily. They weren't used to his presence in the common room, and he looked uncharacteristically solemn. "I'm sorry to have to announce this, but Evadne Norton died in the infirmary last night. Anyone who needs to speak to me is welcome to do so. My door is open." Lucius Malfoy had paled, and Rita Skeeter shrieked once before Augustus Rookwood grasped her arm hard. Lacerta Carlisle was weeping. He turned, and left. He needed to look in her room.   
  
Everything looked normal. She had bought used editions, writing neat notes in a clean script, and he remembered her as a hard worker and good student, if silent. Her griefs and joys she'd kept to herself. She kept her portion of the room the three girls shared neat as well, desk neatly organized with her notes lying there where she'd been studying yesterday, bedside table with a book and a phial....  
A phial. He went over and picked it up. A commercial headache potion. He recognized it...used it himself sometimes. He'd mention this to the Aurors. They were interviewing Maude Pickering right now.   
Check the bin. Notes of when people would be in the library. The name Arthur kept appearing. Best find him and ask him. Rough draft of her transfiguration essay. And two more medication vials. He took them out, and frowned. He needed to ask Keriell, but this looked like maybe it wasn't accident. On to her drawers.   
Spare quills, spare ink. Spare rolls of parchment. A bundle of letters from her parents. One of them looked...off. He drew it out, and looked at it, then, on a hunch, cast a Finite Incantatem at it. It shifted, and revealed itself to be photographs, from the feel of it. He tipped them out, and drew in a shocked breath. The other pictures were more of the same. He dimly registered four men in all, by differences in form and skin tone. But no faces, no identifying marks, just Evadne, dark eyes alight with lust as she took everything they had to give her. He found himself wanting to burn them, but he put the pictures in his pocket and left. Her parents didn't need to see these. And as unpleasant as it was, the Headmaster did. First though, a stop to see Evander Keriell.   
  
He was grading written NEWTS, and looked up with a grin when Jowett said, "Do you have a minute?"  
"It's a break from these blasted parchments," he said. "What's up? My sympathies, incidentally...that girl that died was a Slytherin, wasn't she?"  
"Actually, what I wanted to ask you is connected with that. I need to know what was in these phials."  
Keriell raised his brows and stood up, coming around the desk with his usual angular grace. "Let's go into the lab. Where did you find them?"  
"In the waste paper bin in her room," he said. "She shares with two other girls in her year, and each has a small desk and bin so they can work in their rooms. Everything else in the bin was hers."  
"Hmm, yes..." Keriell said, taking the phials. He looked at the label, and smelled them, and stood there a moment. "Well, I can tell you right now what was in them," he said.   
"Oh?"  
"Migraine potion.It's made by Medicamentum Ltd, the big potions outfit. Contains feverfew, musty wheat, rose thorns, in a stabilizing base."  
"I see, so it wouldn't have harmed her to take it."  
"No, and if she had a migraine hit her I would expect to see two doses...one at the start of the attack, the other about an hour later. The only problem is that you can't take it during pregnancy."  
"Why not?"  
"Well, the other commercial use of this ingredient," he tapped the label of one vial, "is to induce labor. How did she die?"  
Jowett stood there as his assumptions reconfigured. "She bled out after miscarrying," he said quietly. "Thanks, Evander," took the vials, and went to find the headmaster. 


	13. Chapter 12 In which Lucius talks to the ...

Arthur heard about it in Potions class. Rita Skeeter was unusually subdued, her red eyes not entirely concealed by her makeup, and all of Slytherin house was acting strangely. He noticed that Evadne wasn't there.   
"Where's Norton?" he asked Terence Nott, his partner. Nott's eyes widened, and he stammered.   
"She....she's dead."   
"What the HELL!" said Arthur, drawing a glare from Professor Keriell. He controlled himself. "What happened?" he demanded in a lower voice.   
"Dunno," said Nott. "She didn't feel well last night, and around eleven or so Rita went and got Madam Pickering and she took her up to the hospital wing. And this morning Jowett came and told us she was gone." He looked shaken.   
Arthur took a deep breath. He could cry later.   
"Lucius," he said, as they all filed out of the classroom. Malfoy stopped and looked at him, one hand on Mulciber's shoulder."I wanted to offer my sympathy."  
'Appreciated," he said, curtly. "But you know, she was just a mudblood."  
Arthur felt as if he'd been slapped. He couldn't say anything, and just watched as Malfoy walked away, his friends surrounding him.   
"The FUCKER," he said aloud.   
"What?" said Gordon Longbottom.   
"He just told me Evadne was just a mudblood."  
"He's a Slytherin," said Longbottom with a shrug. "Come on, I want to get lunch."  
"He was her fucking boyfriend, Gordon!"  
"Oh." The other boy paused and looked after the group of Slytherins. "Then I feel sorry for her. I wonder what happened."  
"I'm going to find out," said Arthur, setting his jaw. He turned towards the hospital wing.   
  
"I need to ask you some very personal questions, Lucius, about Evadne Norton." said Headmaster Dippett.   
Lucius took a deep breath, and looked him in the face. He looked very like his father when he did that, and Dippett was reminded he was dealing with a seventh-year. This was a man, not a boy.   
"First," said the Headmaster, "I must establish some points. You understand that you are free to not answer any questions you choose."  
"I have nothing to hide, sir," he said.   
"Then I must ask, how well did you know Evadne?"  
Lucius exhaled, and said, "I won't lie to you. She and I were dating, yes."  
"And had you moved the affection to a more...physical...level?"  
"We had, quite a while back. She knew it was a casual thing, that I couldn't offer her marriage." He shrugged. "Whether I want it to be or not, my marriage is as politically based as is the Queen's. The Malfoys are too rich for it to be otherwise."  
"And she knew this, but she chose the liason of her own free will."  
"To the best of my knowledge, yes."  
"Did you know she was with child?"  
"She came to me last week, and told me. I offered her what I could."  
"Maintenance?"  
Lucius nodded. "It is not the first time this has happened in our family....You yourself know that there is nothing disreputable in accepting maintenance for a natural child. And we acknowledge them, although not as legitimate."  
"And did she accept it?"  
"Not...initially. I told her that I would speak to her again in a week...give her time to get over the initial shock, you know. We were going to meet last evening to discuss the issue, but...." He shrugged. By last evening Evadne Norton had been in bed, probably already beginning to miscarry. "Rita told me that Evadne'd come in after dinner and gone to bed with a sick headache when I came in from the match. I figured we'd talk today. I thought there'd be time..." He swallowed hard, and there was a brightness in his eyes.   
Professor Dippett looked at him, and said, "You know there will be official consequences for breaking the rules?"  
Lucius nodded. "I felt honesty was the best policy in this situation. I'm not going to protest or whine."  
"All right. Something has come up, however, that I must ask you about and I am very sorry to bring it up. How certain are you the child was yours?"  
"Whose else could it be?" he said, with a flare of passion. "Evadne wouldn't..."  
"How sure are you?"  
"She...well, um, if it had been Rita, I'd have believed it. Rita's dated her way through the house. But Evadne was...sweet."  
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy, she was. Or she appeared to be."  
"Appeared?"  
He handed him the pictures. He looked at the first, flushed, started to turn them facedown, and then almost too obviously forced himself to look at all of them, mouth tight. He handed them back and wiped his hands on his robe.  
"That's not Evadne. I mean, it is, but....it's not. She wasn't...like that."  
"So that is not her normal intimate behavior as captured in the pictures?"  
He shook his head. He was staring at the floor, face flushed. Whether it was with embarassment or unwilling arousal, there was no telling. "So would you say there was some chemical..."  
"She wouldn't have taken anything....but then I thought I knew her," he said. "I thought I knew her. I"m sorry." He shook his head, and fell silent.   
The Headmaster handed him the pictures again. "Can you put a name to any of these others?"   
Lucius had a look of fastidious distaste on his face. But he took the pictures, looking through them again.   
"I...don't see any identifying marks," he said. "And it's not like I know my dorm mates in that way, you know."  
"True, true....." The professor reflected for a moment, and said,  
"Has she ever said anything about her parents?"  
"Not really. I got the sense that she was...embarassed about them."  
"Embarassed how, Mr. Malfoy?"  
They're very...Well, they're both Muggleborn. From things she said they still live in the Muggle world. Slytherin is not as sympathetic to that as other houses might be."  
"And you can't do anything about that?"  
Lucius met his eyes steadily. "I can say that anyone who teases or torments someone will have my anger to deal with, and my House will listen and obey. But I cannot tell them to love Mudbloods as they love purebloods. Opinions will be expressed."  
_Opinions you share, Mr Malfoy?_ thought Professor Dippett. He looked at the young man across from him, blond hair hanging loose over his shoulders. The edge of the shirt cuff that showed underneath the robe sleeve was caught with cuff links that bore the family viper device, and the sleeve billowed from them with more than ordinary fullness. Everything about him spoke of old blood. _Opinions you shared until you decided to put it aside in favor of satisfying your needs on her? I know Etienne Malfoy. How very convenient that she should miscarry before she bore your child. Conveniences are suspicious things._ But he said nothing. One couldn't, without proof. And this young Malfoy was almost out of the nest, and it did not do to earn the anger of that family for no reason at all.   
"I believe that's all, Mr. Malfoy, you can go. You have my condolences."  
"Thank you...will you please keep me informed?"  
"I will let you know what there is to know, Mr. Malfoy," the Headmaster said, and watched as the young man walked out of the room, his hair hanging free and brilliantly fair down his back.   
  
Lucius ran into Arthur in the corridor just down from the Headmaster's office.   
"Watch where you're going," said Arthur, tensing.   
"Leave me alone, Weasley, I'm not in the mood to play games," Lucius said tiredly. "I've just been talking about my sex life to the Headmaster, I've got NEWTs tomorrow, and I'm tired."  
"She'd still be alive if it wasn't for you," Arthur said. Madam Pickering had told him enough....she'd miscarried and bled to death. Poor Evvie. And this purebred bastard...  
"Do you think I missed that little point?" Lucius said, anger darkening his eyes. "Or are you insinuating I had something to do with it?"  
"Maybe," said Arthur. "Did you give her something?"  
"Me? No. Sometimes coincidences just happen, Mr. Weasley," he said, and turned on his heel and walked away. Arthur stared after him.  
"Coincidence my arse, Mr. Malfoy," he said, and knocked on the door of the Headmaster's office.   
  
The Headmaster was free.   
"Thank you for coming, Mr. Weasley," he said. "I had been intending to speak to you....I understand you were part of the study group in the library."  
"Yes. My elder sister brought me in, and Evadne found it on her own."  
"So you knew her?"  
"I knew her."  
"And, forgive me for saying this....were you in love with her?"  
"No. I'm engaged to Molly Allen. She and I were friends, but never anything more. Cross-house relationships are...problematic, at times, especially between her house and mine. And, she had enough problems. I didn't want to be one more."  
"What sort of problems?"  
Arthur looked at him steadily. "She's a Muggleborn sorted into Slytherin. Every one of her yearmates is the son of an old wizarding family, to a greater or lesser degree. She was told she was not one of them and not going to be one of them the minute they got alone in the common room after her Sorting, I'll bet. It has not changed."  
"But she was seeing Lucius Malfoy."  
Arthur sighed and looked at the wall. "I didn't like that. Not out of jealousy, but the way you don' t like seeing a friend hurt."  
"And you felt Malfoy was hurting her?"  
"Yes," he said. "He is a user of those less powerful, and she was. You know how he is. He can shed charm like a fairy sheds light. It took very little to make her love him. And she is very loyal."  
Arthur was looking at the wall. "I noticed a change in her once they began sleeping together," he said, with a calm that bespoke a wider knowledge of the world. "She was a sunflower, turning to his sun. And when he touched her....Well, my uncle is an alcoholic. He touches a bottle of firewhisky the way she touched Lucius Malfoy. To see someone so intelligent reduced to that..." He shook his head. "It was very nearly obscene. And I worried more when she fell pregnant to him."  
This surprised Dippett. How had this boy known? "Are you sure?"  
"Professor, I'm a Weasley," he said, with a wry grin. "I am second oldest of eight. I spent my entire childhood around pregnant women. I know the signs." At a nod from the headmaster, he said, "She was nauseated a lot. Left the library often looking for the conveniences. She was tired. And she was moving differently. I can' t describe it, but she was."  
"What do you know about her family?"  
"They're nice people," he said. "But they've not decided whether they're Muggles or Wizards yet, and it's causing them problems. They go to church every Sunday, and to dinner with her mother's family every week afterwards. They still live in a muggle house, in a muggle town. And everything they do outside the house they do Muggle fashion, so they blend in."  
"So their reaction to their daughter being pregnant outside of wedlock would be...."  
"More Muggle than wizarding," he said. "We're a small population. Every child is precious, no matter its origins, if it's a wizard. But her family would probably throw her out if they found out. They wouldn't have helped her live in or out of their house if she was pregnant and unmarried."  
"Do you think Malfoy knew?"  
"I don't know." Arthur looked unhappy. "He wouldn't have married her, of course, but they would have made her and the child an annual allowance. Of course, the Malfoys would have given Lucius ten kinds of hell for getting her up the duff, but blood is blood. They might even have found one of their tame families to marry her into, depending how obliging she was about their arrangements for her."  
"And if she wasn't obliging?" A silence fell in the room.   
Arthur took his eyes from the portrait he'd been staring at and met his gaze steadily. "I don't know if you know this, but there's a persistent rumor that Lucius Malfoy will make any potion you want. ANY potion. For a price. And there's a rumor that one reason that you don't want to get him angry is that he will forget where the border is between what his dad taught him and what he learned here." His eyes were serious. "You understand, I have no proof about that. But where there's persistently smoke...."  
"I do understand, Mr. Weasley," said the Headmaster. "You have no wish to tag an innocent man with such serious charges."  
"No."  
"There's something else you need to look at," Dippett said, and handed the stack of photographs to Arthur, and watched his face. Shock, and then he turned them facedown on his lap, with a tear trickling down his cheek. He knuckled his eyes like a much smaller boy, and fished in his sleeve for a handkerchief. "Oh, dear God," he said half to himself. "Oh, poor Evvie...."  
"Excuse me?"  
"Those pictures. That's why she did it, " he said. "She didn't take those. Someone else did. Someone else knows that the paternity of her child would be in question. The Malfoys wouldn't make provisions with her if this was here, showing it could be anyone's bastard. Her parents won't help her." He dabbed at his eyes again. "I...I'm sorry. This is just such a shock...."  
"I must ask you to do one more thing," said the Headmaster, "and I'm sorry for the pain it causes you. But I need you to look at the pictures and see if you know any of the...participants."  
"I....all right."  
He looked them over, face full of sorrow, and then handed them back. "They were careful. Just skin. No scars, no telltale marks. I can't make a positive identification that you can use. But...."  
"But you have a theory?"  
"Yeah," he said. "She was seeing Malfoy. And where you find Malfoy, you find Mulciber and Rookwood and Parkinson and Nott. But there's no proof."  
He was right, there was no proof. He could confine him to his House until the end of term, because Malfoy admitted to having sex with the girl. On the other hand, it had clearly been consensual. And end of term was a week away. Nothing to be done.Young Malfoy would graduate, the girl would be buried, and the truth would be buried with her.   
"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," he said, and stood as he went to the door.  
Arthur turned and looked at him. "I know there's nothing you can do. But I'll remember," he said. It wasn't a threat, but a promise.   
  
The headmaster went back to his desk and sat down, and felt very old and very tired. Because young Arthur was too young to speak so cynically about the political truths of life, and young Lucius was too young to have such hard eyes. 


	14. Epilogue

Epilogue  
  
May, 1963  
  
Lucius Malfoy and Arthur Weasley ran into each other in the hall on their way out the door. Their eyes locked, and ice grey met blue, levelly. Both were in simple dark travelling robes, no longer students. Finally, Lucius smiled. It was not a nice smile.  
"Is there something you wanted, Weasley?"  
"Actually, yes," Arthur said, making his mind up. "Why did you do it?"  
"I did nothing," he said, very simply. "I just made the potion. Someone else gave it to her. If she'd accepted maintenance and faded away quietly it wouldn't have been necessary." And then he smiled. "I thought you'd want to know something more...interesting." His voice was experienced and laden with jaded knowledge. "Did you want to know who had her first, what she looked like...no, you don't need to ask. You saw the pictures, didn' t you. I can tell by the look on your face."  
"Did you take the pictures?" Arthur asked, realizing the depth of what had happened. Rage welled in him.   
Lucius laughed, a rich sound of amusement and tolerance. "My dear boy, how could I?" And he leaned in and whispered, "I had Adrian Mulciber's mouth stealing all thought from me at the time. But when I opened my eyes, the show was quite interesting. Did the pictures turn you on?" His breath tickled Arthur's ear, and Arthur felt his skin heat, unwillingly.   
"You inbred piece of shit !" Arthur spat, stepping back, clenching his fists.   
"Temper," Lucius said. "Going to jail for assault won't help your career in the Ministry, Arthur."  
"Laugh now," Arthur said. "But know this. You will not do this to anyone else. I will be watching, Lucifer." In his mouth, the nickname was not a tender one, but a condemnation.   
Lucius smiled at him, with cool superiority."Arbitrii mihi iura mei, Arthur. Catch me if you can." And he deliberately turned his back and walked out into a day that was entirely too lovely to suit Arthur. The sun shone on his hair, and he did not look back.

_**Author's Note: **There is a sequel being written...Iolanthe as an Auror, Arthur and Molly as young parents, and Lucius....earning his nickname. _


End file.
